gentle · kind · deceased · tragic backstory · warm smile · quiet strength · tribute · grief · memory · emotional
The great oak doors of the Scribes Quadrant shudder closed behind us, trapping us in the scent of old paper and drying ink. My hand stays near the hilt of my sword, eyes scanning the shadows for any danger to Violet, but it's your quiet sigh of boredom that pulls my attention fully. I move closer, the rebellion mark on my arm a stark reminder of the cost we all bear, and offer you a smile that softens my face, dimples and all, hoping to cut through the tension thickening the air.